#But anyway I'm rumbling in the tags as always I'll stop now

[enjoltrwolfstar]

VegasPete is reminding me that I basically have no morals when it comes to fiction, I'm always one abusive dad backstory and one kind of good action away from forgiving and forgetting everything, I'm sorry 😭😭

[msbigredmachine]

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

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Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

--------------

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[y-so-hungry]

Hungry Boy: Chapter 1

Summary: Joseph and Adam have had a mutual crush on each other for months now, though neither knows the other's feelings. Today, Adam goes to the diner that Joseph works at, hungry for dinner, and finds out that Joseph hasn't actually eaten all day... neither of their stomachs will stop rumbling either.

Notes: Hey everyone! This is a RP I did with someone, who wishes to remain anonymous, but was happy to share with you all our story! There will be 6 chapters, which I'm going to try and post one each day. They're all part of a single rp and I had to break it into chapters to avoid the story being WAY too long for one post. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Tags (for the whole story, not just this chapter): hunger, stuffing, starved to stuffed, stomach growling, belly rubs, light bondage, masturbation, cooking, friends to lovers, M/M

Read on AO3

Adam walked into the diner after a long day at work, shivering from the cold wind and snow outside. He stomped off the snow on his shoes at the doormat, and his stomach gurgles at the smell of food permeating the small diner. There were a few other people inside, apparently also tired and cold from the day. He looked up at the bar and saw his favorite waiter, Joseph, standing there filling another customer's coffee. He smiled, and called out to him.

"Oi, Joey, ya got an open spot for me?"

The cup fills to the top, and Joseph immediately springs his head toward the entrance to see Adam grinning widely at him. Joseph smiles back, happy to see a familiar face.

"Adam! Come in, come in!" he calls back, leaving his first customer to enjoy his coffee. "We got a few empty tables, how many in your party?”

"Just one today. Just need to fill up before I go home," he says, patting his stomach underneath his maroon turtleneck sweater.

"Busy day today?" Joseph chats, picking up a stray glass and casually wiping it down with a cloth. "I know how that feels. Right now's the only time it hasn't been busy today, I haven't had much of a chance to eat anything since breakfast."

Adam frowns.

"You haven't? Jeez, love, you must be starving!" he says. A very faint blush colors his cheeks as he realizes he accidentally said 'love' to the waiter he'd had a crush on for months now, and also at the fact that Joseph admitted he was hungry. Something about hunger had always been... interesting to Adam, say the least.

Thinking the pet name as just a friendly gesture, Joseph bobs his shoulders in a little laugh. "You get used to it. Seeing so many people eating can kind of fill the gap, you know?"

Fill ...Joseph's eye catches another waiter walk to a table with a tray full of freshly cooked food; a few burgers and chicken tender sides, even a bowl of onion rings. The smell carries over to his nose, and he has to swallow before he starts drooling.

"Um- I'll be with you in a second!" he says in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. "I just- need to clean these glasses."

Adam raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure that watching people eat would actually “fill in the gap”, but didn't argue.

"No worries, take your time," he said with a laugh. He sat in his usual booth and considered the menu. His stomach rumbled at the sight of the food on it, and he couldn't help palming his belly again, rubbing it a little. He'd even eaten lunch, he could imagine poor Joseph's belly was practically howling with hunger... Part of him hoped he would be able to hear it when he came by for his order.

Placing the final polished glass with the others, Joseph turned toward Adam's table ready to take his order. Upon closer inspection, he can see Adam has placed his hand on top of his stomach, rubbing slow circles into it. He isn't sure if it's the hunger getting to him or something else, but the sight is enough to make his cheeks feel ever so slightly warm. It's probably just Adam, right? Joseph's been holding feelings for him for a little while now, it must be that. But it's specifically when he sees the attention on his stomach that...

Joseph shakes the thought from his head and takes out a notebook and pen once he reaches Adam's table. "Good day, sir. May I take your order?" he playfully asks in a faux-fancy voice.

Adam laughed.

"Mmh, I think the only thing that's been on my mind since I left work is getting the biggest burger on the menu," he says, sounding almost dreamy as he talks about it. "Side of fries, chocolate milkshake. Ooh and chicken strips. Carbs and meat are the goal right now."

His stomach gurgles quietly again and he rubs his belly more, licking his lips.

Joseph's breath catches upon hearing Adam's stomach. He can't deny that his listing of the food makes his own stomach cramp with hunger, his mind filling with images of all the items being cooked in the kitchen.

"Your stomach sounds like it agrees," he says, attempting to be teasing but unable to hide the small voice crack.

Adam's face blushed further and he pressed his fingers sharply into his stomach as he laughed.

"I'm starving, honestly. It was rumbling the whole drive here!"

Oh, geez. Joseph feels his heart skip a beat as Adam says that, the image of him sitting in the car with a rumbling, gurgling stomach during the entire drive filling his head. He doesn't need this now, especially when he's still got other customers to serve once this order is done.

"Hope it wasn't too distracting," he nervously chuckles, then takes a second look at the notebook. "Right, so- Number 3 burger, side of fries, chocolate milkshake and some chicken strips. Is that everything?"

"That should be it!” Adam answers. “Thanks so much, Joe, you're the best."

Joseph grins, his chest feeling warm. "Aw, shucks. I'll see if I can make the order come quickly, just for you."

He turns to leave, peeling off the order from the notebook, but is stopped by his stomach letting out a deep, hollow rumble, one that's not quiet either. He gasps, free hand flying straight for his belly in an attempt to cover up the sound. Damn dress shirt, it's not gonna hide anything.

Adam immediately feels his heart begin to pound, his breath catching harshly as he hears poor Joseph's belly growl. It was loud, loud enough that there's no way Adam could pretend he hadn't heard.

"Jeez, Joseph, was that your stomach?" he says, his voice sounding surprised but gentle, and also strangely intrigued. His eyes were trained on Joseph's belly, and the hand pressing into the area under his ribs.

Joseph feels every inch of his face cringe, his cheeks surely flushing bright red in embarrassment. Though he turns back around to face Adam, he can't bring himself to look him in the eye. He can only keep his eyes focused on his own empty gut, hoping it doesn't protest again.

"Uh...yeah. It was. Guess I'm hungrier than I thought, huh? H-heh..."

"Aw you poor thing. You really haven't eaten anything since breakfast have you?" Adam says.

Poor thing. Joseph's chest flutters as the words float around in his mind. Why does he feel like this? Why is he afraid of Adam finding out something he has no idea about? Why does this have to be happening in the middle of his shift?

"N-no, not really. Busy shift," he sputters as his eyes dart back and forth. "I'll go get your order ready- won't be long!"

He's quick to escape, hugging his arms tightly around his middle so as to not give anything else away.

Adam opens his mouth but Joseph has already sped away, off to hand the order to the chefs. Adam's stomach gurgles again, but he finds he's wondering more about how hungry Joseph feels right now, rather than himself. Poor guy has been running around all day on an empty stomach...

Suddenly Adam wonders if that was the first time his belly had rumbled in front of a customer, or if it had happened already today. That brought an odd feeling, wondering how flustered Adam got in front of other customers, wondering if his belly had been just as loud then. He could imagine him going off to rub his poor empty belly in private somewhere in the back, trying to get it to calm down before going out for the next order...

Jesus, Adam, quit thinking about that, getting riled up in a public restaurant is the last thing we want right now, he thinks to himself.

In the kitchen, Joseph hands off the piece of paper to a chef and makes his way back into the diner, wiping his forehead and taking a moment to breathe. What the hell was that?! he angrily thinks to himself. Getting turned on in the middle of the diner right in front of your crush- you're gonna make a fool of yourself! You got other people to serve, you moron!

Just then, he catches sight of another table glancing at him hopefully, waiting for their order to be taken. He clears his mind of any remaining dirty thoughts and makes his way over, notepad ready.

Adam watched as Joseph took a table's order, then came out a few minutes later holding a tray full of food for another table that had ordered earlier. Joseph gave a small smile to Adam before training his eyes back on the table, but as he came nearer, Adam could hear his stomach practically moaning with hunger. It wasn't as loud as before, but it was constant, grumbling all the way as he passed Adam's table. Immediately he felt his face flush and suddenly all he wanted to do was push his hands into Joseph's stomach and rub his poor belly, feeling it growl under his fingers.

The more Joseph works, the more his hunger grows, and the more his hunger grows the more he wishes he could be alone and take care of it, but he knows that that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Occasionally he’ll see Adam glancing at him, and his heart beats faster every time. Stop it, he tries telling himself. Focus on your work. You can eat later. Just keep going.

Not only that, he hopes that Adam’s order will be done soon so he doesn’t have to be hungry any longer. Even if the sounds are…kind of nice.

He really does look hungry, Adam thinks to himself as he watches Joseph continue on with his job. He can see the way his eyes catch on certain dishes, the way his hand absentmindedly settles on his middle when he's talking to a customer. Not to mention each time he passes Adam can hear small, telltale gurgles coming from his middle.

He supposed he could tell so easily in part because he was quite hungry too. His stomach would not stop rumbling, especially since the table next to him had been served a few minutes ago. The burger on that table looked so good, it made his mouth water, and his stomach gave another violent growl.

Eventually, most of the orders are taken and Adam’s order is finally ready. Joseph sighs as he picks up the tray with his food on top of it. So much for making it quick, he says to himself.

Back in the diner, he speed walks to Adam’s table, placing the tray down as quick as possible. “Hey, I’m sorry it took so long. There were a lot of big orders today. Is this everything?”

Adam's stomach gives a long, desperate moan at the sight of the food. It's so loud he can feel it shaking his ribcage, and he can feel blood rushing in his ears immediately. Both hands touch to his stomach but there's no use trying to cover the noise. 

"Oh man, heh, sorry, yes I think this is everything, jesus..."

If he were a cartoon, Joseph swears that steam would be coming out of his ears at the sound of Adam’s stomach. He’s known him for years, he’s heard his stomach before…and yet it’s never been this ravenous before. He swallows to moisten his throat.

“Are you sure you ate enough for lunch? You sound starving…” he says. genuinely concerned but also a little intrigued.

"I thought I did, though I guess my job is fairly labor intensive, I'm on my feet all day helping customers, hauling around books, shelving them, but I didn't think I'd be this hungry after a day at the bookstore." He laughed and rubbed his belly as he popped a fry in his mouth. "MMMF, gods Joey, this is so good. Thank you, I swear I could kiss you."

Joseph felt his heart leap into his throat. Surely Adam didn't...mean that, right? Obviously not, they're just friends, he wouldn't actually want to kiss him...surely.

"O-oh, well, I'm- I'm glad you like it!" he stutters. "I'll make sure to send compliments to the chef, he'll-"

The smell of Adam's food wafts past Joseph's nose, and his stomach rumbles again. It's been consistently rumbling for the past hour, but Joseph's starting to reach his wit's end. Scowling, he gently smacks his notebook against his belly, as if punishing it.

"You're the one who sounds starved honestly, Joey," Adam says, sounding sincere, and yet his eyes were staring directly at Joseph's belly. "You haven't eaten all day, you must be damn near desperate now."

At this point, Joseph decides to give up on the attempt– no one in this diner believes he’s cool and collected about this– and takes a deep breath.

“God, yeah, I’m dying,” he exaggerates, gripping onto his belly. “Being around all this food is difficult on the easiest days but when you’ve barely eaten anything yourself? It’s like torture.”

His stomach lets out another long, rumbling groan. It’s enough to where he can feel it buzz against his palm. Despite his own words, his heart flutters at the feeling.

"I'm sure it is," Adam says. When Joseph's stomach rumbles again Adam's hand suddenly jumps up, Joseph's belly is so close Adam could touch it, but he quickly disguises the movement by tucking a hair behind his ear, unsure of how graceful it actually looked. "It really does sound empty, the poor hungry thing. Your shift ends in what, one, two hours?"

If he calls me a poor thing one more time– Joseph pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, attempting to hide the squirming in his legs. He feels like he’s going weak. “A-actually, I don’t have much left. I think I end in about half an hour? I’m tempted to order something myself if this keeps screaming at me.”

He gently prods his belly, which gives a small, agitated grruuu in response.

Jesus fuck it's like he's TRYING to make me lose my mind, Adam thinks as his face flushes thoroughly again at the sound. When Joseph mentioned buying something to eat however, Adam got an idea. A stupid idea, that Joseph would 100% turn down and would definitely think is weird but it's way too late Adam has already opened his mouth--

"Actually... I was wondering if maybe you would like to spend the evening at my place? You can eat there, we could talk... Maybe I could feed you?"

Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 will be posted soon!

[oonajaeadira]

OBVIOUSLY I want to know about EVERYTHING!

I did see the asks for your Javier and Joel WIPS...

But I mean? LMR?? PLZ ALWAYS!!!

Branded??? 😭

Moar about Alpha Javi!??!🥺🥺🥺

GTTT? 😏

TAROT OBERYN!?!?!?!!??! dskrjdjsjdbdbxdjdyspdbfcj

But there is one... I think I know nothing- NOTHING about... which idk

I haven't looked it up-

But that might be illegal...

Anyway how about-

I’ll Leave a Light On

💚

(gif by pascalsky)

Lookit you asking about all of them without asking about all of them!

I mean, I said what I said about some already. But for you? Multi-tidbits!

Well, with LMR, it's mostly Din and LB being on opposite sides of the wastes, Din going toe to toe with Bo and LB dealing with Cobb and Uli-ah. Obviously busytimes is in my way on that, but I might as well let season 3 get into me and stir my heart up to get me going on that one.

With Branded...I think I can comfortably say I'm on hiatus on that one. I finally know where that one's going next, but I really need greasy writing wheels to get at that one. Meaning I need to be on a roll so it goes easier. That one's a heavy machine for me and once I stop it's hard to get going again. But those two are also coming up on a brief separation...

Alpha!Javi. It's coming along. It will be longer than I expected, hence my needing to postpone it. Here's another peek:

There is a slight lull in the greetings and you can feel your face burning, your stomach tying itself into knots. If you could stop yourself–clap your hand over your gland–you would, but it would make your instinctual discomfort more obvious by adding gesture to scent. Instead, you avoid looking at Lucas directly, show submissiveness, hope that it fades and he retreats.

Beside you, Javi’s chest rumbles.

It’s only there a moment–a fraction of a second–before he awkwardly coughs into his fist, stopping the growl and then pounding on his chest like he’s trying to dislodge a bad swallow. But it’s enough to earn a surprised glance from you and a stern look from the elder Mr. Gutierrez.

I'll Leave a Light On is the follow up to Light Only Shows You Where the Shadows Are. All I'm going to say about that one is... Sweetmeats already gave Max an invite into her home and that doesn't wear off. She's basically borderless now. And his eyes glow in the dark.

.

wip tag game

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 6: Twilight

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Feverish dreams carry mysterious whispers, and magic spells start to unravel.

Commentary: Hi there! If you like what you read, please consider commenting, tagging, or even shooting me a message! I write mainly because I love to share my ideas about the characters with other fans, so it means a lot to me when I'm able to engage with others regarding those interests. Don't feel obligated, but know I'll always be grateful if you do. And to those of you who already do this, thank you so, so much <3

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~

“ ‘Mm’okay…really…” Mickey hissed through gritted teeth, even as Minnie hauled him to his feet. Though his whole body was uncomfortably warm and his head pounded incessantly, it was his leg that felt like fire. Since the moment the net had snagged him in the forest, it had not stopped burning with a searing pain. There were moments of relief but it had only gotten worse over the course of the day, and it felt like it was spreading. 

Of course, he didn’t say this. He’d caused just about enough trouble for everyone today; the last thing he wanted to do was worry them more. Besides, even now as he struggled upstairs with his arm slung over Minnie’s shoulder, the pain was beginning to ebb. By the time Goofy had shown them the room and left them to their own devices, he was feeling well enough to dispute with Minnie the childish arrangements they’d been left with. Not well enough to win that argument, but he’d come to learn she was a fierce negotiator with that sweet, ringing chime that was her voice, so he doubted he’d have had the motivation to overcome her persuasions even if he’d been feeling perfectly healthy. 

He settled abashedly into the bed she’d made up for him and was surprised by the exhaustion that came crashing over him.  Minnie said something, and though he wasn’t sure what, he nodded anyway. Anything she said he was likely to end up agreeing with anyway, so he figured he might as well save himself the effort of arguing.

The rain outside sang with a steady rhythm with which his drowsiness grew, and it wasn’t long before his eyes grew too heavy for him to resist.

When he woke, he was surrounded by darkness.  The blankets Minnie had tucked him into were gone. The whole room was gone. A cold wind howled, ruffling through his fur. Chilled stone pressed against his back and with a start, he sat up, squinting through the dark as his eyes adjusted. Dim firelight flickered against dark, mossy walls, fading into endless shadow as it reached into a deep abyss just steps from where he rested. Mickey swallowed nervously, his injured leg pulsing with a searing heat that had begun to web its way through the rest of his body. The cold of the cavern did little to cool him down, and he felt he was entirely drenched in sweat.

“M-Minnie? Goofy?” he called out, his voice echoing against the walls of the chamber. There was no answer. No sign of them anywhere. Deep worry settled in the pit of his stomach. Were they okay? What had brought him here? Where am I? 

Chains rattled below. Mickey froze, holding his breath, and listened intently. A deep-throated growl rumbled from the abyss. It spoke no words, but he heard them in his head nonetheless, a gentler sound, but still powerful.

Mickey…

He didn’t respond. With every ounce of his being, he drew back his thoughts from the prying consciousness attempting to invade.  But he was, of course, unskilled in this area. The walls he’d clumsily tossed around his mind crumbled, and the voice pressed more intensely this time.

Mickey…

If he couldn’t escape the confines of his mind, he’d pick himself up and run. But when he moved to stand, his leg buckled and gave out from under him, sending him right back to the floor with a tiny yelp. It was then, as he moved to push himself up, that he noticed his hands. Silver veins that gleamed even in the dark sprawled along the back of his palm, slowly creeping towards his fingers. They burned, and he let out a pained gasp as the rest of his body flared in their wake. He quickly found that the searing web of silver had encompassed him entirely, each branch creeping up from his wounded leg.

As he drew in a deep and labored breath, the voice tried one, final time.

Mickey…

Knowing he could not run, nor escape the call, Mickey finally forced himself to answer. “Wh-who are ya? Show yerself!” he shouted, then grit his teeth against a wave of heat and pain. 

From the abyss, the sound of chains echoed across the walls. Mickey swallowed hard. An enormous silhouette appeared, climbing from the pit with claws the size of boulders. When it had risen, a scaled creature bigger than anything he’d ever seen stood before him. Its shape was obscured by smoke and shadow but he could see enough to watch as it lowered its massive head to him and opened its mouth to reveal rows of daggerlike teeth. It released a soft growl, and Mickey stiffened. 

Dragon.

He felt he should do something, say anything. But a feeling like awe had fallen over him, and he could do nothing but watch with wide eyes and a pounding heart.  As the smoke from its nostrils cleared, more of its features came into view. Its legs were bound with thick chains and the space around them seemed burned. The creature’s body glowed faintly, with a dull, golden light that seemed like it should have been brighter, and Mickey realized that what he’d thought were scales were far more featherlike in shape and spread. In the place where its eyes should have been, there was only darkness.

Caution abandoned him and Mickey reached out a gentle hand to press against the dragon’s muzzle. She rumbled softly and her body relaxed. Sympathy flooded Mickey'ss heart. Grand as this creature was, her majesty was faded and her heart wounded.

“What happened to you?” he breathed. There was no explaining what he felt, for it seemed to him that they’d met before. And the sight of her in so much pain was nearly too much for him to bear.  

His question was left unanswered. The dragon parted her jaws, and a single command echoed among the confines of the cavern. 

“ Come.”

Mickey shot up from the pillow, gasping for air as his dream faded into a fuzzy haze of a memory. A pulse of pain raced through him. With a labored breath, he collapsed again and glanced at his ungloved hand. Surely what he’d seen there before was only part of the nightmare. But no. Each silver thread still crept through him, leaving him utterly helpless. His body curled instinctively as the pain continued, shriveling against the growing strength of each pulse.

Minnie! He thought without really meaning to, clutching his chest and letting out a pained cry as another wave swept through him. He managed to open his eyes just enough to scan the faint silhouettes in the room. Of them, she was not one, and in a faint moment of clarity, his heart sank. It had been selfish to hope she’d stay. After years of confinement and solitude, she was finally free. Why would sh-

The thought trailed off without end. He cried out, feeling as though he’d been thrown into a pit of fire, and writhed endlessly in the heat. 

“Mickey!” 

The door flew open, and candlelight flooded the room. Mickey felt his heart might leap out of his chest as he heard the voice. In an instant, Minnie was by his side, and he managed to draw in a single deep breath as she grasped his hand. He wasn’t sure what to cherish more. The subtle relief of magic that swept his veins, or the simple fact that was her presence. 

“I’m so sorry!” she breathed. There was a certain elation in her voice that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, like a weight had been lifted from her. But the light was dulled by fear, and Mickey couldn’t help but feel responsible. “I was helping Goofy make up dinner for you, and I ju–” Her voice hitched, and Mickey stole a glance at her face. She peered at him with eyes wide, lips parted in paralyzed fear as she lifted the candlelight to him. “Mickey, what is this?” she whispered, voice trembling as she touched the silver veins running through his hands. 

“...Dunno…” was all he managed to speak, although he’d wanted to say more. It was difficult to croak even that much.

“I’ll go get Goofy!” she promised, but the moment Minnie drew her hand away, the pain immediately flared again. Mickey flinched, and a pitiful whimper escaped his lips. “Ngh…Min, please…” he gasped, reaching for her hand. Despite the fever, he had at least the sense to know something about her touch lessened the agony.  

She cast an uncertain look at the door frame, but Mickey’s pleas won her over. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long,” she whispered, then set the lamp down and took a seat on the bed. Gently, she took his hand and began to run her fingers across the places where the silvery poison had spread. Slowly, the flaming heat cooled, like a gentle river had come to put out the fire.

“Yeah,” Mickey managed to choke, and he summoned the closest thing to a mischievous grin he could manage. “Thought you’d left me for good.”

He’d meant it entirely as a joke, but it was enough to make Minnie freeze. She paused and looked down at her lap. Mickey swallowed. That single motion spoke volumes. Had she stayed for sheer pity? Fear? The idea that he might be keeping her from living in freedom was the worst thing he could imagine. “Minnie.” He squeezed her hand and she looked at him. His eyes were utterly focused on her, and dead serious. “Minnie, I’ve caused ya enough trouble already. Please don’t stay ‘cause of me. I’ll be alright.”

This was enough to warrant a reaction, apparently, though not the one Mickey expected. Instead, she wrinkled her nose and glared at him. “I’ve had just about enough of others deciding my fate! I’ll stay for whatever reason I’d like, thank you,” she snapped, looking down her nose. When Mickey stared back at her, confused by her rage, she sighed and softened her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just…what kind of friend would I be if I left you like this? You helped me before. Now it’s my turn. This is my choice. Let me make it.”

Mickey bit his lip awkwardly and was quiet for a few moments, more than happy to grant that request, but worried he might upset her again either way. “Well…” he coughed at last. “I, uh…can’t argue with that, can I?” When she looked back at him, and he at her, they both shared a moment of quiet before bursting into a fit of gentle laughter. This was not the most comfortable thing for Mickey, given his current state, but he cherished it nonetheless. Minnie had a way of bounding so seamlessly from mood to mood that he couldn’t help but find humor in it. 

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Minnie grinned, a sweet, pleasant thing. “Seems we’re connected, after all.” She gently rolled up his sleeves, and with a sweep of her fingertips, the silver web across Mickey’s arm began to ebb. “Does that feel better?”

Mickey nodded. It did. And yet the moment she let go it flared up all over again. He yelped, grasping at his leg where the fire burned hottest. Minnie pulled back and brought a worried hand to her heart. 

“S-sorry!” Mickey hissed through bared his teeth.

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Minnie breathed. She shifted closer to the base of the bed and turned so that she could kneel beside him. “Is this where it hurts?” She moved his hand to the side, and placed hers where it had been. 

He felt her touch through the tear in the fabric, and knew immediately she’d found the source. He nodded, and gingerly, she rolled back the fabric until it bunched just below his knee. It took all he had not to whimper as it brushed up against his wound and shook him with another shock of searing pain. His vision was blurred but he squinted through it nonetheless, hoping to catch sight of what it was that had caused him so much trouble. Minnie pointed it out before he even had the chance to look.

“Oh, Mickey, you poor thing…” she breathed, and hovered over the wound. “How did that simple net do this? ” 

Sure enough, there was a deep red ring–something akin to a burn–where the net had snagged him. The silver branches stemmed from the wound, as if a metallic poison was still seeping through his veins. Minnie drew in a sharp breath and bit her lip, then seemed to whisper a prayer of sorts before laying her hand against it. Fire and ice shot through Mickey, and he dug his fingers into the blankets with a cry of pain. This was not the comfort he’d expected from her touch. With every pulse of relief came an equally strong wave of fire. The heat was so intense that Mickey almost lost consciousness all over again, and was forced to collapse back against the pillow, doing everything he could to keep still.

Minnie, too, was struggling. Her lips were pursed in concentration, brow dripping with sweat. A power flowed from her, yes, but she grew paler with every moment. Had Mickey seen this, he would have certainly kept her from continuing. But as it stood, he had squeezed his eyes shut and was completely unaware of anything except for the searing flames he felt rising within him.  He was about to plead for her to stop anyway, when with a final rush of riverlike cold, the intense heat dissolved into a gentle warmth.

He heard Minnie gasp, but didn’t have the strength to open his eyes and see why. He lay against the pillow for several long minutes, gulping in air as his fur dripped into the blankets around him. Finally, he blinked and rose slowly, still trembling. But the pain was gone and with a swift glance at his hands, he saw that the silver veins had disappeared entirely.

Then he saw Minnie.  She leaned breathlessly against the windowsill, her face deathly pale. In an instant, he had thrown the covers off himself and moved to her side. When she saw him, she smiled lightly. “I…didn’t know if that would work…” she gasped. “I’ve only tried it once before.” Though she was weak, her eyes twinkled with pride. 

Mickey breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she spoke. “Boy, did it,” he chuckled, and nudged her gently. “I feel right as rain.”

Rain. Mickey’s eyes fell to the window, where the raindrops had been sliding down since long before he’d entered the room. Only now, they acted differently. They clumped together, forming crystalline pools around the glass where Minnie rested her head. Strange, but it seemed almost as if they were trying to reach through to her.  

I was cursed…

Her words echoed in his head. She had come from the water, had nearly frozen as if her body was made of it. There was a reason she was tired. While heat could thaw the waters of a frozen lake, it could also send them evaporating into the air. She had used too much of her own strength to help ease his own inferno. 

Gently, Mickey slid off the bed, shaking his head to clear the dizziness that hit him as he stood. When he’d recovered, he tested his leg and, when it held, he grinned and turned back to Minnie. “Hey, Min, I need a breath of air. Care to join?”

Weakly, she lifted her head. “In this rain? You’ll catch a cold all over aga-” 

“Awe nah, you took care of that,” Mickey laughed, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll carry ya.”

She gave him a curious look, but she was either too tired to argue or, surprisingly, actually enjoyed the idea. With a delicate nod, she smiled and held out her hand. Mickey winked and scooped her up in his arms, laughing as she let out a tiny peep of surprise.

He felt ten times his old self as he rushed downstairs, Minnie clinging to his neck as he leapt down each step. When they reached the bottom, Goofy was there in the kitchen and gave them both a surprised look. “Gawrsh! Feelin’ better, are ya?” he laughed, and Mickey tossed him a cheerful nod. 

“Courtesy of miss mermaAA–” He felt Minnie pinch him, and he quickly corrected himself. “Minnie! Courtesy of Minnie!” Goofy chuckled and shook his head, and Mickey heard Minnie giggle in turn beside him. “Figured we’d go out and enjoy the rain! ‘Cos, y’know, we don’t get enough o’ that these days.”

“Oh, please! It was your idea!” Minnie hissed in his ear, but Mickey only laughed as he bounded outside. 

The rain came in torrents, as it had when they arrived, but it was a more pleasant temperature this time. Minnie drew in a deep breath as it soaked her fur, and perked up almost immediately. Even Mickey enjoyed the feeling of the fresh droplets, relishing the way they washed away the sweat and grime of his feverish ordeal.  He walked through the streets, Minnie snuggled against his chest, and thought the town itself seemed much brighter than the day just prior. Funny how a day is all it takes to turn the world around.

The sky still held a touch of afternoon light but this was swiftly fading, so Mickey found a twisted tree on the outskirts of town and helped Minnie sit beneath it. She whispered a 'thank you', and he grinned in reply as he sat beside her. While sunsets were not exactly stunning sights anymore, he figured it couldn’t hurt to hope for a good one this evening. 

Both were so exhausted by what the day had wrought that neither much wanted to discuss it. So they talked about silly things mostly, as they sat there beneath the rain-filled canopy. Like the sorts of food Minnie used to enjoy, and the most interesting places Mickey had come across in his years of travel. When they had talked for nearly an hour and the light of twilight was fast approaching, Mickey asked Minnie of the song she had been singing when they met. 

She looked at him silently for several moments, then at the sky. He thought he saw something like an idea spark behind her eyes, but didn’t have a clue what that could be. 

“I’ll sing it for you,” she murmured at last. And as the sunlight slipped away and the clouds above them parted to reveal a sky painted with blue, purple, orange, and pink, Minnie opened her mouth and began to sing. 

Twilight had come.

From a distant forest, a flash of green light burst across the sky. Minnie felt it. Neither of them saw it. A spell had been broken, and another cast. But for now, though wicked magic had just been freed, the two mice were hidden from its grasp. Enchantment shuddered across the village, carried through the air on wings of song. None knew but one. None knew but Minnie.

And even she didn’t know how briefly it would last. 

[foodieforthoughts]

Show Me the Light

Summary: She recently moved to Minneapolis and is a newly appointed sports teacher at Southern Cross High School, wanting to live life away from the big city of New York. On the first week of her arrival she (almost) crashes into Detective Walter Marshall which leads to his and her life being intertwined there on. It is not your regular meet-cute story but rather a tug of war between two people from opposite spectrum of life.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Myra King)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: A slight description of a possible accident, smut in the future chapters.

A/N: Hello! After watching "Nomis" for the second time, I really started to feel the urge to write about our grumpy Detective Walter Marshall. I don't want to make it all angst, so bear with me if the OFC seems too cherry to be in the movie. Also, I do not want to face tag her, so let your imagination run free.

**Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist**

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Title: Show Me the Light

Walter slammed the manilla folder on his desk, exasperated with the dead ends to the present case at hand. He stretched his arms in front of him, feeling his neck become stiff with the cold and his goddam posture was killing him.

"Dad?" Faye peaked in, draped in a shawl with her toothbrush in her hand.

"Are you going to bed now?" Walter's voice came out sterner than he intended to.

"No, I'm getting ready to go to school." She pointed towards the window in his office. Faint light of the rising sun was casting a glow from behind the curtains. "Did you stay awake the whole night?" She innocently asked.

Walter rubbed his eyes. He hadn't even realized how much time had passed since he had grabbed the case file last night. He had become so invested in it, he had completely missed bedtime. 'Not that sleep is important anyway.' He grunted, feeling the sore muscles in his back stretch as he stood up.

"I can call mom to drop me to school." His daughter offered. Her small frame looked tiny enveloped in her grey shawl, her nose pink with the cold.

"No, I'll just get some coffee. Have to go to the station anyway." Walter grunted again as he stretched his neck, rubbing a tender spot. "Go get ready."

He watched as his daughter retreated with a concerned look. Walter loved having his daughter around but it was mostly because he could keep one of his concerns at bay by keeping an eye on her. Grabbing his gun from the drawer and his badge lying on top of his table, he made his way downstairs to fix himself some strong coffee. He could feel the tiredness lingering in his muscles, but he had a job to get done. When he took the pledge to serve the public, he wholeheartedly meant it.

"So we got a new sports teacher." Faye pulled on her seat belt and buckled it over her body.

"What happened to the previous one?" Walter started the engine of his truck, the hunk of metal humming and warming in the cold. He let it run for a couple of seconds, rubbing his hands together as it touched the cold steering wheel.

"I don't know. He got old?" Faye chuckled.

Walter spared a smile. His daughter, the light of his life, made it a little less harder to live in this cruel world. They pulled out on the street and made their way towards the school.

It had snowed heavily last night. The sun shone brightly on the white landscape, making the snow twinkle like crystal. It was already peak office hour and thankfully Faye's school was not deep inside the city. Walter took out his sunglasses from his glove compartment, as the glint of the sun on the snow and the car windows were making his head hurt.

"Um... Dad? Is that coming our way?"

Walter looked up, squinting at the road as Faye pointed out in front of her. A black figure on a bike, the sound of its exhaust rumbling through the street and the metal parts shining in the sun, was making it's way towards them. The speed at which they were travelling and the slight tilting of its wheels from side to side hinted that the rider was losing it's balance.

"Oh, fuck!" Walter gripped his steering wheel tightly as the bike zoomed past his truck, barely missing the edge of the hood, and skidded along the slippery road to crash against the mount of ice gathered on the side. His truck made a grumble, the tires screeching as it tried to get a grip on the asphalt, coming to a jolting halt.

"Dad!" Faye had gripped her seat belt bracing for impact. "Oh my God! Are they alright?" She turned to look behind, watching the rider on the ground a few feet away from the bike.

"Are you okay?" Walter looked at his daughter. A whiplash injury was the last thing he wanted his daughter to suffer from. When Faye hurriedly nodded at him, his anger grew as he growled and opened his door to jump out and catch a hold of the irresponsible person who nearly crashed into him.

***

She was running late. Her second day on her job and she was freaking late.

Myra had hopped on her bike, chugging the last of her veggie smoothie and placing the bottle on the side pocket of her bag. Her brilliant black Benelli 900 SEI had looked stunning as always. She had dusted the few sprinkles of snow laying on it's tank, before kissing the cold metal handle bars.

"Don't disappoint me today, okay? You have been good so far." She had smiled at her bike dearly, remembering she still had to get it checked by a professional because of all the transportation it had had to go through. The sweet sound of its powerful engine coming to life, the exhaust emitting a rumble as she had revved it up a little, had made her heart swell.

Everything was working out fine. The city roads had been bustling with cars, but she had zoomed past them. Even though her bike belonged from the 70s, it still worked like a fine piece of metal. She had worn her faithful leather jacket, her biking gloves sat snuggly against her skin providing warmth in the cold weather.

Somewhere around the suburban part of the city, nearer to the school she worked at, her bike started to give off a clicking sound. Myra pressed on the breaks, feeling her speed coming down a little and her tires beginning to wobble on the road.

"Oh, fuck. No, no... " She prayed as the braking system seemed to be giving up on her. Her accelerometer showing her speed still above 20 mph. She was already crossing the speed limit inside the suburban region and was unable to do anything about it.

Her eyes widened as she spotted a big truck coming her way. She pressed down hard on the breaks, but she knew a crash was imminent now. Her eyes scanned about trying to look for an escape bay, spotting a heap of snow on the side of the road.

"Oh, God!" She turned her handle abruptly, missing the oncoming vehicle by mere inches, and let go of her bike as it skidded along the road and crashed on the snow. She slipped on the gravel for a couple of feet, trying to hold onto something to stop herself but failing miserably.

Myra groaned as she came to a halt, her head bumping against the road but saved by the helmet. Her heart raced like it was going to come out of her chest. Her feet and hands had gotten cold from the fear of crashing into the car, her breathing coming out ragged. She blinked several times, looking up at the sky through her black tinted glass hood of her helmet, swallowing the dryness in her throat.

"Hey!" Myra felt herself being yanked up by the collar of her jacket and came face to face with an angry, curly haired man. His eyebrows were scrunched together tightly and his lips, under the bush of his beard, was upturned in a sneer. "What the fuck just happened there?"

The zipper of her jacket dug at her throat, her feet dangling from the ground. The man was huge and powerful to have lifted her body up like she was nothing but a ragged doll. Myra placed her hands on his, trying to choke out a word. The insulated cover of her helmet and the air getting blocked from her throat was making her difficult to form words.

"W-wait... " She tried to speak but felt her lungs were straining for oxygen. The sound of the police siren made the burly man finally let go of her. She dropped to the ground on her knees, gasping for air and pulling her helmet off. She coughed as she leaned on the ground, placing her hands on the road breathing in through her mouth.

"Miss King?"

Myra looked up at the tiny voice of a girl coming from behind her. She recognized the girl from her class yesterday. Myra had helped her correct her posture while aiming for the goal when they had played soccer.

"You know her?"

The bearded man from before who had held her by the collar asked angrily. Myra looked over at him, his arms crossed over his chest, straining the fabric of his sweater over his muscles. She looked down at his waist and noticed the police badge clipped on his belt, his gun cocked in it's holster. She sat back on her knees, looking from one person to another.

"Yes! She's our new sports teacher."

Myra felt her cheeks heat as the grumpy man and the two police officers that had arrived later, looked down at her. Her gaze fell on her bike some few feet away, the hazy grey colour of smoke emiting from it, contrasting against the white sheet of snow.

"Take her to the station. Keep her there until I come back." He grumbled to the other two officers, throwing her a look of disgust and walking away with the girl behind her.

"Come on, Miss. Inside the car."

With a grunt from her aching muscles and joints, Myra stood up clutching her helmet in her hand and followed the men as they lead her to the police cruiser.

'Bloody fucking great!' She silently mumbled to herself as she sat on the backseat of the cruiser and watched the black truck she was going to crash into, drive away.

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[larryssunflower]

TRR AU- The Non-Royal Romance, part five

 read past parts to catch up!

part one   part two    part three    part four

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 Alana’s pov. 

Following the events of the beach party and boat race, we officially start the royal tour of Cordonia. Of course, the first stop is Lythikos, the harsh snow kingdom in the mountains. We arrive at the snowy landscape after a short drive. Maxwell and I are riding together, talking and laughing the whole time. “Are you ready to ski?” Maxwell asks, excitement evident in his voice. I grin, looking briefly out the window at the large mountains around us, a feeling of nostalgia washing over me. “I don't know, are you ready to get your ass kicked?” I ask cheekily, making him roll his eyes. “Keep talking princess, but we both know you're just going to embarrass yourself,” He says, making me scoff, punching his shoulder. He just laughs and we continue to joke around until we pull up at the lavish wooden manor. 

We thank and tip the Lythikos servants who take all our bags, allowing us to instantly go out skating on the large frozen over lake. It's just me and max on the ice for a bit. I take long strides on the ice, twirling around. I finally feel like I can breathe like I'm not being suffocated. Then I look up, watching as black cars pull up, suitors spilling out, headed straight to the ice rink. Great.  I glance over and see Drake standing by the lake, watching the suitors as they try their best at skating. He brings his hand up to his earpiece, pressing it and talking into it. I wonder who he is always talking to. 

I feel a hand on my elbow and I turn to see Liam smiling at me. “Would you like to skate with me, Your Majesty?” He asks, extending his hand graciously. “Of course Liam,” I say kindly, taking his hand. We skate slowly on the ice. “It's so beautiful here,” He comments, and I nod. “I feel like we never have any alone time,” Liam says softly in my ear, and my cheeks flush. “Well, I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” I laugh lightly, biting my lip. As usual, my eyes have a mind of their own, and they flash over to where Drake is standing, watching us. “I hope I’m not being to forward,” Liams says, furrowing his brows and slowing down. I shake my head as if doing that would rid the thoughts of DRake and look at Liam. “Of course not,” I grin and we continue to have a nice conversation as we make our way around the lake.

We are abruptly interrupted by a handsome suitor with red hair that is stark contrast with the pale surroundings. “Do you mind if I have a moment with the princess?” He asks Liam in a cool voice, who just nods, before kissing my cheek then taking his leave. “Princess Alana, we haven't really had a chance to talk before, I’m Oliver Nevrakis, the Duke of this chateau,” He says as he extends his elbow to me. I smile, looping my hand into it. “Oh, it's very nice to finally get alone time with you, Oliver. Your estate is beautiful, thank you so much for having us,” I say, and he smiles. “Thank you. I just hope I’m better company than that boring Valtorian,” He says, a bit of disgust laced in his voice. I’m taken aback for a moment. “Oh, I don't know if I can compare you two. From what I have seen, you both seem to be lovely men,” I say, making him smirk. “I won’t tell him I’m your favorite don't worry,” He winks, before skating away, leaving me dumbfounded.

That was definitely something. My eyes find Drake, again, who is staring at Oliver with a steely glare. His eyes then flick to me, looking at me for a moment before looking away, scanning the frozen lake. The other day at the beach he was being so different, almost vulnerable. He’s barely even showing emotion around me now. Did I make a mistake asking him to put on my sunscreen? Was that too forward?

Maxwell’s voice breaks my thoughts. “Ready to ski now?” He asks, a mischievous grin on his face. “Yes! please let's go,” I say with relief, following as he leaves the lake, hoping to rid my mind of my thoughts of Drake.

---

About ten minutes later, we’re at the top of the ski track, the suitors coming up to follow us. It's like I can't escape them. Maxwell and I line up, then yell “go!” and take off together, speeding down the side of the mountain. The thought of speeding away from all those royal men thrills me and I shriek with happiness, adrenaline pumping within me. I speed up rapidly, swerving between and around the slower skiers. Almost a lifetime of lessons has treated me well. I’m way ahead of Maxwell but I glance back anyway, trying to see him. He slows down and shouts at me. “Alana! Look out!” He screams, and I look forward and yelp at the incoming branch laying haphazardly in the middle of the ski trail. Without time to swerve, I crouch and leap over it, landing and slowing down, turning my skis to the left.

The momentum makes me tumble through the powdery snow, cringing as I roll, knowing I’m going to get bruises because of this. I finally stop, and lay down looking up at the sky, breathing heavily. I’m definitely at the bottom of the slope, as I'm flat on my back.  I hear shouts as Maxwell speeds down to me. It’s not his voice that I hear right above me when I open my eyes. “Are you out of your mind?” Drake asks angrily, glaring down at me. “W-What?” I say quietly, and he huffs, offering his hand to me. I take it and with his help, stand up, sliding in place momentarily in my skis. “You could have died. Or got seriously injured! What were you thinking?” He asks, his eyebrows drawn together. I’m taken aback for a minute, quietly clicking out of my skis. “Well I was just racing with Maxwell and-“ “- just don’t do it again. Use your brains for once Princess! How am I supposed to protect you if you are so careless?” He asks, genuinely angry.

I can't even find the words to respond, I just stand there, embarrassment bubbling up within me. “Hell Yeah! I had no idea you were so badass!” Maxwell shouts as he skis up to us. “Don't encourage her,” Drake snaps, making maxwell’s grin fade quickly. He brings his lips tightly together, trying not to laugh, as he looks away quickly. Drake rolls his eyes at this, turning back to me. “You’re expected inside,” He says, his gaze stone cold. I finally manage to find my voice. “Alright. I’ll be right there,” I say, and he nods, turning and heading to the large manor. 

When Drake is far enough away, Maxwell breaks into laughter. I whirl around to him. 

“What is so funny?”

“Nothing!”

--Later that night--

Maxwell and I are sitting by the fireplace downstairs, drinking hot chocolate and talking. Drake is standing near us silently. We’re still a bit tense after earlier. I clearly made him furious. It must be annoying when the person you are supposed to protect is being reckless. My limbs ache from the fall, but it could be worse.

Maxwell and I are interrupted when someone saunters into the room. “Well, if it isn't the lovely princess and her squires,” Oliver says cooly, leaning against the doorframe. “Excuse me?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I mean no offense, your highness, it's just that your friends here don't even measure up to you. I honestly don't know why you bother hanging out with them.” He says as he picks at his nails, his icy blue eyes darting up, hungry for my answer. 

“Well, Maxwell is my good friend and frankly I don't care what you think of him, because he is the kindest person I believe I have ever met. And Mr. Walker is my loyal bodyguard who has saved me multiple times. So yes, I do ‘bother’ to hang out with them and take great offense when you say they are beneath me,” I say sternly. Oliver just smirks, his eyes moving to Drake. “Mr. Walker huh? I don’t think I have ever heard someone call you that,” He says, cocking his head to the side, regarding him with a strange familiarity.

I look over at Drake, who is staring back at Oliver, his jaw clenched in anger. “Do you know each other...?” I ask slowly, and Oliver's smirk grows. “Why don't you answer her Drakie? I’m sure she dying to know,” He says, clearly enjoying this. Drake doesn't say anything, still glaring at Oliver. “Okay, I'll go then,” Oliver says, clearing his throat. “Well, about seven months ago, I met his darling younger sister. Mmm, I can still remember how eager she used to be. So excited to be dating the great Oliver Nevrakis,” He says slowly, watching us for our reaction. I glance over at Drake, a sick feeling in my stomach. He has a sister? And she dated Oliver?

I didn't know it was possible, but somehow Drake looks angrier than before. “Oh and don't even get me started on her petite, tight body-” “-Shut the hell up. You have no right to speak about her that way,” Drake cuts him off, somehow not shouting, his voice frighteningly calm yet forceful. 

Oliver is clearly pleased that he got Drake to react, and his smirk seems to grow, unfazed by Drake’s outburst. I look over at Drake worriedly. He glances over at me, his eyes softening as they meet mine. “You know what?” He says, turning to Oliver. “I remember that I have somewhere I have to be,” He says, glancing at the three of us briefly, “If you will excuse me,” Drake says, turning and heading for the door. “Aw Drake I was just getting started!” Oliver calls out, but I stand up, anger bubbling up within me. “Stop acting like a child Oliver! If you ever treat Drake like that again, I will slap that smirk right off your pathetic face.” I burst out angrily, taking Oliver aback. Drake hesitates at the door, glancing at me, before going out. The storm suddenly rumbles above us, the sky turning dark blue.

“I’m going after him,” I say, grabbing my coat and scarf from the side of the couch. “Are you sure that's a good idea?” Maxwell asks, and I shrug. “No. But I need to see him. I’ll be back,” I say, quickly heading towards the door. “Head back soon! It looks like a blizzard is coming!” Maxwell calls to me, and I nod absentmindedly, opening the door and rushing out into the snow, following Drake’s figure.

-

He stops in a clearing, looking up at the evening sky. “Drake?” I call out. His shoulders slump and he turns to me. “Of course you followed me out,” He says, almost amused at my lack for judgment. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Oliver was being pretty rough back there,” I say, and Drake nods, sighing. “Yeah, well that's expected. He and I, we don't really get along,” Drake mutters and I nod, looking down. 

“Why come out here?” I ask, and he turns to me. “Do you trust me?” He asks, and I nod. “How could I not trust my bodyguard?” I say, and he then shoves me. I stumble and fall back onto the snow in surprise. “What the f- oh,” I say softly as I look up at the beautiful sky, meteors flying across the clear sky. Drake flops down beside me. “Yeah you can't miss something like this,” He says, a smile on his face. I look at him for a moment. His warm tan face mixed with red cheeks contrast beautifully with the powdery snow surrounding him. He must sense me looking and he turns his head. His dark eyes bore into mine, and my stomach does about 24 backflips. I look away quickly, clearing my throat. “so- uh you have a sister?” I ask, my heart suddenly quickening, so loud he must hear it. “Yeah. Savannah.” He says, his voice soft. 

“Is it rude to ask what happened to her?” I ask, and he sighs. “No, it's alright. I actually used to work as minimal security here when the Nevrakis family hosted events. Savannah was always in love with the courtly life and would beg me to let her go to the parties. Then one time, I actually let her go,” He says with a shaky breath, shaking his head at himself. “She got a pretty dress and was super excited. I watched as she danced happily with some of the noblemen...Then she met Oliver. She instantly liked him and was gushing about him for weeks. They started dating, no matter how much I objected. I knew he wasn't a good guy and it killed me that she decided to fall for that snake. About four months ago, at one of the largest parties of the season, she went off to talk to him. I have no idea what about, but I remember seeing her rush out, sobbing. She left without telling anyone where she was going. She didn’t even tell me,” Drake says, his tone vulnerable. “We haven’t seen her since and many people think she fled the country,” He says quietly, and my heart breaks for him. 

We sit there for a moment, the only sound being the rustle if the trees and occasional cricket. Drake doesn't speak, and I assume that he doesn't want to talk anymore. Which is understandable. “I'm so sorry Drake, that must be really hard. I wish I could have been there. To be a friend to her,” I say, and he nods silently, and I notice his Adam’s apple bob up and down. 

We sit there in comfortable silence, watching the meteor shower above us. I try to ignore that our hands are about an inch apart, so close yet so far. Soon, clouds start to move in, and I sigh. “I think we should go back before we get caught in the blizzard,” I say regretfully. “Yeah I’m sure if the princess was found frozen with her bodyguard it would be quite the scandal,” He says as he gets up, making me snort. He offers his hand to me to help me back up. “Thanks for following me Princess,” He says and I smile. “Of course,” I say, and we start back to the manor. We clearly miscalculated the timing of the storm, and it comes in much quicker than we thought. The wind is strong, snow whirling around us.  I blindly reach for Drakes' hand as we trudge through the storm. Drake looks over at me in surprise. “For uh- safety!” I shout, and he nods. “For safety, yeah!” He shouts back, and as he faces forward I swear I see a smile on his face. 

---

The next day, right before the ball :

I scrunch up my face as I look at my reflection, adjusting my slinky silver gown, It's beautiful, but hangs a bit strange on my hips. but hey, what can you do? I just shrug, wrapping my white faux fur around my elbows. The knock at my door makes me jump, and I turn around. “Come in,” I say, and the dark wood door opens, and Drake walks in, freezing when his eyes land on me. I feel self-conscious as his eyes glance over my outfit, his cheeks red. His warm brown eyes that I adore so much finally find mine and I smile sheepishly. “Do I look alright?” I ask, adjusting my dress nervously. He shakes his head slightly, “You look per-” He stops himself suddenly, clearing his throat and looking back at me with that distanced expression that I hate so much. “They are ready for you downstairs Princess,” He says. I nod, smiling lightly, disappointment washing over me. “Of course. Thank you, Drake,” I say, walking past him, out the door. I hear him closing and locking my door, then following me from a distance. “For safety reasons, I would prefer it if you were nearer to me tonight. I don't know if I trust Oliver,” I say, bitterness in my voice as I reference last night. 

Holding his hand was like an addict just getting a taste of their favorite drug again. Satisfies for the moment, but isn't enough to fully stop the craving. The need. After feeling his warm hands when he caught me on the boat, when he applied the lotion over my back, and last night when they were clutched to mine, I can't get enough. I want to feel all of him. To feel his lips on mine. To feel him hug me back, embrace me. but that will never happen. Drake follows my request, walking close by me. “thank you,” I murmur.  We reach the decadent doors of the ballroom, and stop in front of them, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself. The herald announces my name, “And finally, The Princess Of Cordonia, Alana Rhys!” I put on my dazzling smile and the doors open. 

Tonight should be interesting. 

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Yay! Okay back on this series due to some demand! Thank you again to all of you who have supported me recently and complimented my writing! It's crazy, it feels so crazy writing this again, it has been over a year, and I have definitely changed a lot but my love for this story has not! I’m glad that there are people who enjoy my writing and this little series I decided to make. I have always loved writing and I'm so glad I can share with you guys! Thank you all for inspiring me to keep on writing. I'll try my best to have the next chapter out soon! Love you all <3

[rogue-barnes-16]

THAT PUNK (part IV/?)

Summary: Some people don’t distinguish between hate and love. Some people do, but fail to express it.

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags: @jcalpha1 @lilypalmer1987 @sadanddeadsoul @im-so-fxcking-ace @m-a-t-91 @helddowninthisstarlesscity @littleravenwrites @swtmckngbrd @gwennyy @swissairforce-member @stealingheartsswift13 @slender--spirit @thisismyfriend-tree @lolabean1998 @crazybutconfidentaf

Warnings: drinking

A/N: the tags in bold didn't work, sorry. Also, I think I'll write just a couple of chapters after this one before finishing the miniseries, so get ready for the end. Feedback is always appreciated <3.

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

Requests are open so feel free to send me an ask <3.

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"James, darlin', Where're ya goin'?" I barely heard my mother while I was picking up my jacket. I hadn't been able to focus on anything since Y/n closed the door. I glanced at it, from time to time. I guess I was waiting for her to come back. "James?"

I blinked and I saw my mother had moved from the living room to be in front of me. I had to seem really off for her to have that worried look while she scanned me with her eyes. "I'm gonna go dancing with Steve and a couple of gals, Ma."

She pursed her lips hesitant before coming back to the living room, taking the now empty dishes to the kitchen. "don't come back too late, darlin', and be careful."

I gave her a the best smile I could form before putting on my jacket and grabbing some money. "don't worry, Ma. But I might stay at Steve's, 'm not sure."

My mother sighed, but allowed me to do as I wanted. I kissed Rebecca's forehead and my mother's cheek before going out.

I got out of the building and I saw Steve waiting there, sitting on the stairs. "hey, pal" I greeted him while I helped him to get up.

"Hey, Buck" he greeted back. We started to walk to the nearest bar "how did it go the talk with your sister's bestfriend?" and there it was again. Y/n. Steve had seen her a few times while he was in my house and Y/n came to pick up Becca.

I gulped. Suddenly, my feet were the only thing I wanted to look at. "It didn't go well, I made her cry. I ruined everything again because of that damn kiss, and I think this time I lost her for good." I wasn't ready to say it out loud, I guess, because my voice cracked in the end. I cleared my throat trying to hide it, but Steve always saw throw me.

"Oh, so Y/n was that girl?" I nodded. Steve knew about what happened with Y/n, but I never said her name. "Oh." he repeated, looking down, with his hands inside his pockets. "y'know, we don't have to go anywhere, we can just go for a walk and then go home."

I nodded. I really wasn't in the mood for a dance. So we did as Steve said. We walked for half an hour approximately while I told him everything about what had happened with me and Y/n a couple of hours ago. And then, I walked Steve home. "sleep well, punk" I said.

"jerk" he answered, opening the door. Before getting in, he turned around to face me "y'know Buck? You won't ever know if you've lost Y/n, unless you ask her."

"she won't talk to me again, Stevie." I shrugged, my hands in my pockets "she hates me, and honestly, I don't blame her. I've been a jerk"

He huffed before replying. "You know that's not true. I mean, you've been a jerk" he took two steps upstairs, and spoke again. "but Y/n doesn't hate you. She wouldn't have saved your ass from your Ma and Becca otherwise."

And without giving me a chance to argue what he had just said, he got inside, closing the door behind him.

That punk knew nothing, Y/n hated me. She hated me, right? What if she didn't? What if Steve was right?

I wandered around her neighborhood for almost fifteen minutes, trying to be brave enough to knock her door. The 'what if's were killing me, but I couldn't find it in me to go to her house.

It was too late anyways, and I was sure as hell the last thing she wanted was to open her door and see me, standing there in the middle of the night... Right?

I tried walking back home, but before I realized it, I was spending all the money I had with me in alcohol, sitting on a stool in a bar near Y/n's building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

I took a deep breath to calm myself when I entered in my apartment. I put a smile on my face and I took off the pins holding my hair. "Mom, I'm home!" I announced.

When nothing came in reply to my statement, I walked to the kitchen counter, where my mother left a note whenever she left.

And there it was. I hopped onto the counter and I read the couple of lines written down on the piece of paper in my hands. Apparently, my aunt was sick, so my mother would take care of her and come back the following day around noon. I sighed, swinging my feet. The day was getting better and better.

First Rebecca had lied to me - it was quite obvious his brother told her to do that -, then, I made the mistake of having hopes about fixing things with Bucky, and then, I cried in front of him for some stupid reason, making the both of us uncomfortable.

In addition to all of this, my mother wouldn't be at home until morning, so I didn't have anyone to talk about this with.

I decided the best I could do was having a quick dinner go to sleep. Yeah, sleeping would help me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luck definitely wasn't on my side, because I couldn't fall asleep. I tried to, but I ended up tossing the sheets off my body and getting up.

I since I was alone, I didn't even bother on putting on my housecoat over my nightgown before walking to the kitchen. After drinking some water, I decided maybe some cold air will help me, so I opened the kitchen window and I hopped onto the counter to feel the cool air directly.

I heard knock on my door and I jumped off the counter, thinking the worst. The knocks were fast, almost hysterical. What if something had happened to my aunt?

I jogged towards the door and, when I opened it, I almost fell to the floor. Standing in front of me was Bucky, crying nonstop.

I had no time to ask what was he doing there, because he took a step forward, crashing against me in a tight hug with enough strength to make me step backwards, almost tripping on my way. I could smell the alcohol before he said a word.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm s-so sorry for everything, please don't walk away from me again, p-please I-I'm sorry Y/n" he kept rumbling against my shoulder, his arms wrapped around my neck, and I couldn't tell if he was tightening the grip because he didn't want to let me push him away or because he couldn't stand upright.

"You're drunk" it's all I managed to say, still stiff. He started to cry harder, burying his face on the crook of my neck.

"I-I didn't h-have the guts to c-come here sober" he muttered shaking. "I-I swear I tried, I-I tried coming here sober, b-but I hurt you s-so many times t-that I couldn't"

I closed my eyes, and before I could stop myself, my hands where caressing his back reassuringly. "Does your Ma know where are you?" I asked resigned.

"N-no" he answered quietly and more relaxed. However, he quickly went stiff again. "D-Don't tell her I'm drunk please. I'll leave, just don't tell her"

I sighed, pulling him away slowly, in an attempt to help him regain his balance. However, the moment, I let go of him for him to walk, he tripped, almost falling. "I'm not telling her, but you can't leave in this state." I stated, holding him upright by his forearms.

He stared at me with glossy eyes, a spark of hope shining in them when he realized I was letting him stay. I looked down, blushing when he didn't look away. He let his forehead rest against my shoulder again, this time a bit calmer. Despite this, his voice cracked when he spoke, and I felt tears wetting my nightgown. "You're an angel Y/n. I-I don't deserve you."